


Unique Stitching

by Just_Jesse_116



Series: Holiday Series [3]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Fluff, I have never written anything for Valentine's Day in my life, I think not, M/M, Valentine's Day, coincidence?, hella fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3328871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Jesse_116/pseuds/Just_Jesse_116
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, he couldn’t even see whoever it was behind the veritable mountain of flowers he came face-to-face with, but just as he thought about shutting the door and giving up on the whole day altogether, Yamamoto peeked at him from around the vase, grinning. “Happy Valentine’s Day Gokudera!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unique Stitching

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So... first of all, the baseball exists. Go to a Hallmark store. Second, I don't even know what to make of this. I like the idea, but I don't think I got my feelings across :/ I haven't written anything since last May orz maybe I'm losing my touch TT_TT but if you could spare a moment, I would love feedback on this one, not so much on grammar and such, but on how it made you feel. Because my primary emotion while writing this is distresssssss because I think it's not right and I don't know what to do TT~TT

 It was a beautiful day, all things considered. And considering that the date was February 14th, Gokudera would need all the help he could get, even if help could only be constituted as having nice weather. He didn’t _really_ care, but he supposed it made getting from point A to point B infinitely easier.

 The bomber was currently sat on his apartment couch, turning the small wrapped box in his fingers idly. He was currently in a rather heated debate with himself, over whether or not this whole production was just too out of his comfort zone or _oh just suck it up and_ deal _with it already._

 He mussed his own hair in frustration, but arose anyway, though not without muttering mutinously at the injustice of it all. He’d already put his shoes on (an hour ago when this whole debacle started) and was going for his jacket when there was a knock at his door. Grumbling, he hung the article of clothing back up and went to answer.

 At first, he couldn’t even see whoever it was behind the veritable mountain of flowers he came face-to-face with, but just as he thought about shutting the door and giving up on the whole day altogether, Yamamoto peeked at him from around the vase, grinning. “Happy Valentine’s Day Gokudera!”

 “What in the world…” Gokudera’s face was the picture of resigned confusion, but he held the door open to the baseball player, taking advantage of the cover of the flowers to sneak the small present still in his grasp behind a box of cereal on the counter leading into the kitchen.

 When he went to follow Yamamoto, he saw that the other had placed the flowers on the small end table near his couch in the living room, and his face colored brightly at the menagerie of different flowers in the bouquet.

 Sunflowers and tiger lilies took center stage with violets and Gerber daisies, all different colors, and all surrounded by babies breath and fern fronds.

 Yamamoto turned to him then, and grinned, and Gokudera felt his ears begin to burn.

 “T-the hell is that supposed to be?” He muttered more out of embarrassment than real spleen.

 Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head and laughed. “They’re flowers for you! I would have thought that was obvious.”

 Gokudera sputtered a bit, slightly indignant, but he didn’t have time for much else because Yamamoto had come around the couch and pulled him into a gentle hug. Yamamoto cradled Gokudera’s body close to his, and it wasn’t long before the silverette moved his hands to grasp at the ends of Yamamoto’s shirt, hiding his face in the others shoulder.

 Yamamoto made a small questioning noise, but he didn’t push Gokudera to talk, just angled his head to kiss Gokudera’s hair. And it was those small things that he did that made Gokudera want to speak.

 To tell Yamamoto how he felt in words, not leaving the raven to decipher what he wanted to say by the way he acted. Even after Yamamoto confessed to him, he hadn’t said anything. He just stood there like an idiot and didn’t, couldn’t say anything out of surprise. Or was it fear? Maybe both.

 He didn’t tell him that he felt the same. He didn’t tell Yamamoto that he had loved him ever since they had been sent ten years into the future.

 He had never told him just how much Yamamoto meant to him, that even though their relationship started out rough, if this was where it ended up he wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

 But his words stuck in his throat and pricked at his eyes, because he was too big a coward to say it outright, even when he _knew_ that Yamamoto deserved to hear it.

 Gokudera’s hands moved from Yamamoto’s shirt, up his sides and over his back, where they grasped at the ravens shoulders tightly, pulling him closer, closer to the warmth that was Yamamoto Takeshi. Gokudera felt one of Yamamoto’s hands move to his hair, gently threading through the silver at the back of his neck.

 “Thank you.” Gokudera murmured, “For everything.”

Yamamoto stilled, and Gokudera tensed, but then Yamamoto’s hold on him tightened, and the silverette felt him turn his head towards him. “Thank _you._ ”

 Gokudera turned to face him as well, and Yamamoto caressed the side of his neck with the gentlest of touches. “Hayato…” His voice was hardly above a whisper. “May I kiss you?”

 Hayato felt himself flush, but he still managed to find his voice, though equally as quiet. “Only if you promise to be mine…Takeshi.”

 Takeshi’s smile was like the sun that day, bright, but gentle. “I always have been.” He began to move closer, closing his eyes, and Hayato followed his lead. When their lips met, it wasn’t anything astronomical, but it was them, and that was perfect.

 

* * *

 

At some point, Gokudera had gone to retrieve his gift, and when he handed Yamamoto the small parcel his eyes lit up.

 “It’s just a little thing…” Gokudera had blushed and begun to mutter, but Yamamoto was quick, and he already had the box open.

 There were a couple sheets of red tissue paper wrapped around something, and after he made short work of them, he was left staring at the baseball in his hand.

 “Hayato…”

“I get it! It was stupid! But I saw it and thought of you…or whatever!”

 “Hayato.”

Gokudera turned to look at Yamamoto with a small grumble, but the expression on Yamamoto’s face almost melted him.

 He had the biggest, dumbest grin on his face, and that was impressive considering that was his default expression.

 He was holding the baseball close to his chest, the baseball, with its stitching in the shape of a heart instead of the normal way.

 He pulled Gokudera in for a hug, kissing his cheek. “Thank you. I love it!”

Gokudera huffed, but he was smiling as he hugged him back. “You’re welcome, baseball idiot.”

 


End file.
